Conquering in Purple and Red
by CaptainKrueger
Summary: A collection of Conquestshipping ficlets. Latest ficlet summary: "Funny, but she felt...at peace. Content. Like she wanted to do nothing more than play this silly little game with Valon for the rest of the morning."
1. Restless

**Author's Note: So I plan for this to be just a collection of Conquestshipping ficlets. I figured I could put my ideas here instead of creating oneshot after oneshot, as that's what most of my stories tend to be. **

**This first one was inspired by _Fight Club,_ minus the terrorist organization. :P This one also includes a tweaked, slightly more cynical Valon.**

/o/

She called him stupid because she noticed that the scrapes and bruises were still appearing.

He smiled wryly at her, quirked an eyebrow, and tsk, tsked. She glared at him expectantly, and he shook his head at her, saying, "Stupid? Careful there, Mai. You don't know. I could be a victim of harassment."

"Jackass," she muttered, pushing her plate of food to the side. "We both know you're looking for trouble."

A twist of Valon's lips posed as a smile as he and Mai kept up their staring match. She was now taking the time to be concerned, hm? Was it because the bandage on his brow was out of place in this restaurant? Did it clash too much with the dainty bowl that sat in front of him? He looked down at said bowl. Blue floral print circled the porcelain. His gaze traveled to the cream colored cloth napkin he had dropped on the table. Yeah, definitely out of place, he thought to himself as his attention settled on a nearby couple, a man and a woman. The guy's hands looked just as soft as his female companion's. Valon sighed. What was he doing here?

Mai let out a weary sigh. She had dropped the pissed off friend, and nothing _but_ a friend, look and instead looked tired, like being angry at him took too much energy. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Valon?"

"It's not like I'm getting into it with any guy off the street," Valon murmured the half-truth, which did nothing to appease his friend-and-nothing-but-a-friend.

"Aren't you?" Mai pressed.

Valon shrugged.

"You don't even know most of those losers," Mai accused and, to her credit, she was right.

"It's all under control," Valon murmured, using his spoon to push around his soup's ignored garnish. There were rules. No weapons, no rings, no belts, even shoes were not allowed. If a brawler had enough, that was the end of it. There were no hard feelings, no identities. He wasn't Valon, resident dumbass looking for something to do after his life had become a lot quieter. He wasn't a mechanic. He wasn't the guy who'd spent half a year riding around Europe just because he could. He wasn't Dartz's former puppet. He was a pair of fists that pounded another guy trying to sort out his own life, a knee that drove itself into a doughy middle aged man's gut, a leg that swept a wide eyed nineteen-year-old kid's feet out from under him. Valon was motion, he was confrontation, he was a shout in a crowded room.

But Mai wouldn't care about all that, and he didn't expect her to. Part of him realized just how damn stupid it was that he got into semi-organized fights with guys he didn't know. He understood that when he spat blood onto the dirty floor of that overcrowded basement, under the grainy light of a grimy light bulb, surrounded by dozens of shouting men, that it was probably a good idea that he stopped. Probably.

Mai's scowl showed just how little she believed any of his claims. "Under control," she seethed. "Right. And it's still going to be under control when you start spitting out your own teeth?"

Valon bit back a smartass reply and exhaled instead. "Helps me sleep at night," he finally admitted after a few beats of silence.

"Since when do you have problems sleeping?"

"Oh, because you'd know, what with how you always insisted on sleeping in a different hotel from the rest of us."

"Then get a prescription," Mai argued. "Drink some herbal tea. Meditate. Run. Count sheep. Do _something_ else, Valon. Just don't do this."

Valon breathed out and at that moment a waiter caught his eye. Said waiter was an average looking guy, and the only reason he and Valon continued to look at each other was because they recognized on each other the tell tale signs of what they and several others did on weekend nights. Valon, now that he really got a good look at the guy, thought that he also recognized the guy himself, and not just the map of bruises and cuts on the guy's face. Had he fought him once? Maybe they'd stood by each other one night, goading on two more idiots trying to find the answers to life's problems in the makeshift arena.

Either way, it didn't matter whether he knew the lanky waiter or not; an unspoken camaraderie had settled within both of the young men. Mai may not get what Valon was doing, but that server, whose name he didn't even know, did.

Mai's withering glare pierced him, and she asked, "One of your friends?"

"I wouldn't call him that," Valon replied.

Mai let out a sound of her disapproval. They played with their food in silence. Valon didn't want to look up at her; he knew he'd just get the same face melting glare. "You need a hobby," she finally said after a couple of minutes of poking and stabbing her food.

Valon shrugged the suggestion away. He had his diversions.

"One that doesn't involve you hurting yourself or other people, hon," Mai clarified, holding up her fork and pointing it at him warningly.

Valon finally looked up at her, bemused. When she'd left him behind to clear her head, he'd come to realize that he needed to step back and let Mai live her own life, so why couldn't she do the same for him?

_Because what you're doing's making you spit up blood and see funny. _His voice of reason argued.

_And that's any worse than gambling with peoples' souls?_ Another side of him retorted.

"We do this," he said, picking up his spoon again and swirling it around in his soup. They had lunch every Sunday. They made small talk. They traded stories. They... Valon dropped his spoon and looked up at the blonde woman seated across from him. What _were_ they doing?

"What?" Mai snapped, demanding to know what was causing him to gawk at her.

Valon shrugged again. They were stumbling in the dark, too stubborn to reach for the light when it was within arm's reach. That's what they were doing.

Mai placed her soft, warm hand on his and when Valon looked up, the fire in her eyes had died down from a roaring blaze to a more contained glow. The look in Mai's plum colored eyes told him it was time for them to stop messing around and to start discussing the problem at hand like adults. Mai was reaching for the light switch and flicking it on.

She started to bring her hand back until she looked down and paused to study the bruises on his knuckles. Mai swallowed and looked up at him; her hand retreated to her lap.

"You really want me to stop, don't you, Mai?" Valon asked.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do," Mai responded calmly. The intent behind her words expressed her concern more than her tone did. She exhaled, then said diplomatically, "Look, Valon, I get that you're restless, but you need a less harmful outlet for all that pent up frustration. Promise me you'll stop the fighting, and I promise I'll stop yelling at you...as much."

Valon managed to smile at her little joke. He realized that now that his secret was out in the open, Mai probably wouldn't be so patient if he kept it up. Valon did not want to see if Mai would end up giving him an ultimatum if he continued fighting on weekend nights. Even though their relationship was not all that he wanted it to be, Valon counted himself as pretty lucky that Mai was even talking to him at all. He'd tried to remain optimistic during the nine months they hadn't seen each other, but there was always a small part of him that doubted whether he and Mai would meet again. Now that they had this established routine, Valon didn't want to risk all of that just so he could trade blows with some other guy and not get the police called on him.

"Okay," Valon said in surrender.

Mai's beautiful violet eyes lit up. "So you'll do it?"

Valon chuckled, making an effort to not sound uneasy. "Hey," he said, trying to make it sound like it was no skin off his nose. "Anything for a friend, right?"


	2. Little Questions

"Favorite color," he prompted her.

Mai smirked and looked down at her violet bra. There they were, lying sphinx style under her duvet while the rain whispered outside, wearing nothing but their undergarments, and he was asking Mai her favorite color? Mai placed her chin in her hand, staring at Valon through half-lidded eyes. "Oh, I dunno," she drawled. "What do you think, Valon?"

Valon, mirroring her, cupped his cheek in his hand while he stared at her like the answer required some deep thought."Hm," he murmured reflectively. "I'm going to have to go with orange."

Mai snickered and, had they been facing the headboard instead of the end of the bed, she would have smack him with the closest pillow. "Orange," she replied, kicking a leg up so a small mountain stood on the opposite end of the bed. She snapped a purple bra strap. "That's your answer."

"You strike me as an orange girl," Valon answered, kicking his own leg up and bumping hers, making the mountain bow to the side.

"That's a five point deduction," Mai chirped. "You're off to a bad start."

"I'm sure I can win those points back," Valon replied, shifting under the covers so that he lay on his back, grinning at the ceiling. "Your turn."

Mai cradled her face with both hands while she stared up. "Hmmm." She decided that her question would have to be simple. Although the many questions she'd like to ask were running through her head—What was it like growing up the way he did? Why her? What made him wait so long? Why did he continue to smile even when he worked for Dartz?—Mai knew that it was best that they started with the easy questions.

She followed his example by turning around so that she lay on her back. "What's _your_ favorite color?" Mai smirked and mentally shook her head at herself. Dear god, they were being such dorks.

Valon chuckled. His red overshirt was somewhere in the living room, so he didn't have the benefit of looking down at his own torso ironically. "Guess."

"Periwinkle."

"Oh, got me there, Mai."

"I knew it."

"Baths or showers?" he asked.

"Both have their merits," she replied, finding shapes and patterns in the ceiling. Funny, but she felt...at peace. Content. Like she wanted to do nothing more than play this silly little game with Valon for the rest of the morning. "Do you have a type?"

"My type is whoever I'm with," he answered her, searching for and finding her hand under the blankets. They threaded their fingers through each other's. "And who I'm with is a blonde who can kick ass and handle a bike... While in heels."

Mai chuckled and rolled over so her head was on his chest. She traced shapes lazily on one of his pecs with the pad of her index finger. "Going for the cheese, are we?"

"Is it working?"

"I won't say."

"No fair."

Mai smiled as her eyes drowsily slid closed. Damn it, she was happy; she'd never even thought she would be in this position, lying in bed with Valon, being lulled back to sleep by the rain.

"Hey," Valon whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"What've we been doing the last ten minutes?"

"Aw, c'mon, Mai."

Mai smiled and pressed a kiss on his chest. "Okay, shoot."

"What're your thoughts on the future?" He paused and added carefully, "Stuff like marriage."

Mai lifted her head, "Whoa there, stud. You're cute, but don't think I plan on marrying you anytime soon just because I let you in my bed."

Valon laughed and shook his head. "You can calm down; I'm just asking about it in a general sense."

"Oh," Mai said simply. She settled back down. "Oh. You mean, what do I think about marriage as a whole?"

"'Course, Mai. I realize that I came on a little strong—"

"A little?" Mai teased.

"—but don't think I'm planning our retirement as we speak. Just want to know what you think."

Mai hesitated. It wasn't something she'd given much thought. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"I think if it's what you want, go for it; if you don't want it, then don't. Although y'know what? Suppose you and I ever get that far? I'd be willing to take your last name."

"And why's that?" Mai asked. Knowing that Valon was willing to take her name made her smile; she couldn't imagine some of the other guys in her life willing to do that.

"Because your last name is Valentine."

"Hm, Valon Valentine?"

"Think about it, Mai."

"It does have a nice ring to it."

"S'pose we had a kid. A daughter, specifically. We could name her Valerie."

Mai looked up at him and smirked. "We would not name her Valerie."

"Hey, why not?" Valon asked. "Valerie Valentine, daughter of Valon."

"That's exactly why, hon."

Valon chuckled and threw his arm over his eyes, unable to suppress his grin. "That'd be a wasted opportunity, Mai."

"We'd live," Mai replied. "So are we done with hypothetical scenarios?"

"Sure. I was just thinking. We just had our first night together; we don't have to worry about making any big, life changing decisions anytime soon."

Mai smiled, closed her eyes, and nuzzled him, ready to fall back asleep. "Mm, good." All she wanted was to continue lazing in bed, listening to the rain, enjoying Valon's company. They had plenty of time to actually get to know each other, and Mai was glad for that.


End file.
